hot potato
by Flare Warrior
Summary: Bard's mostly female or not cute employees try to cope with the request "send your cutest delivery boy". The solution is obvious: send the boss.


Based on this post: post/109280987642/modern-au-in-which-thranduil

* * *

"What" Dwalin says when he sees the special instructions attached to the latest delivery order.

'Please send your cutest delivery boy'

Dwalin purses his lips and Tauriel leans on his shoulder to read it along with him. "Um" she says.

Dwalin looks over at Sigrid, the only other person on for delivery that night, then considers himself - all tattooed, bearded and burly five foot six inches. "I don't think I quite fit the bill here"

They're quiet for another moment. "Should we maybe just pretend we didn't see it?" Tauriel asks.

Sigrid shakes her head vehemently "We fulfill all requests to the best of our ability!" Dwalin huffs and Tauriel ducks her head. Sigrid is always way too serious about their jobs, which Dwalin thinks is from a combination of it being her first and the fact that her father owns the store.

"Well, we can't just call Legolas in for one delivery," Tauriel says "and Kili is visiting his uncle." She considers for a moment "Maybe we could find someone on the street willing to make a few bucks"

Sigrid looks about ready to burst with reasons why that's a Terrible Idea, but Tauriel turns sheepishly to Dwalin before she can start "Sorry, I mean, you would probably- now I know I'm going to muck this up"

Dwalin holds up his hands "No need, lass. There isn't a bone in my body that could be considered 'cute' and I like it that way."

They all stand in consternation for another long moment before Bard drops something in the back and bites off a curse. Then their eyes snap together as they all light up with the same idea at once.

"Da~!" Sigrid sing-songs, putting on her best 'little-girl-who-wants-something' face. Tauriel and Dwalin grin mischievously and give her two thumbs up for encouragement. She disappears into the back and they wait approximately three seconds before crowding by the door straining to hear.

"-why can't any of you do it?" they hear Bard ask, exasperated.

"Well, the special instructions politely asked for someone unintimidating, but I'm right in the middle of inventory and you know how Tauriel and Dwalin are"

Dwalin snickers and Tauriel pouts "I'm not that intimidating" she murmurs. Dwalin looks up at her with one eyebrow raised. "I'm not! I just am here so you lot don't foist all your chores on me."

"...Alright, fine." Bard says, no doubt having fallen victim to the trademark Sigrid Doe Eyes like always. Footsteps come their way and they both scramble away to look busy.

Bard comes out and looks them over, suspicion in his gaze. "Where's the delivery?" he says finally.

Dwalin takes the bag with the completed order inside off the counter and hands it out "Greenwood, on the road with all the big trees."

Bard takes the bag and Dwalin goes back to reading the magazine he'd picked up. Tauriel absently flips a patty on the stove, seemingly very focused. Bard sighs heavily and grabs his keys, then takes the magazine from Dwalin's hands and flips it right-side up. "Why do I employ you people" he mutters on his way to the door.

"Drive careful, Bard! I hear a moose was spotted on that road yesterday" Tauriel calls while Dwalin tosses his magazine aside.

"You'll have a better chance of cooking that if you turn the stove on!" Bard calls back, and she curses while Dwalin laughs at her.

He doesn't hear Tauriel say "Wait, Greenwood?"

* * *

The house is big, but not the size he was expecting for the address. It's slightly obscured by the miniature forest out front and he's half afraid he'll get lost walking to the door, but he follows the little solar lights along the stone pathway and makes it to the porch. He rings the doorbell and before he can lift his hand away from it the door opens.

The lights on in the house are dim, leaving them mostly Illuminated by the bug light hanging to Bard's right. The man is not the kind of person Bard thinks would ask for an 'unintimidating delivery person.'

He could quite possibly make Dwalin look like a scruffy teddy bear, if only by air alone, and he towers over Bard as he probably did ninety-percent of the population. The man gave Bard a once-over that made him raise his eyebrows, then looked appreciative. "I see your place of business puts great consideration into customer requests."

Bard had a feeling his employees were not entirely truthful about what that customer request had been. "Always" he says, "Though I'm afraid I'm not usually on delivery"

"Oh?" the man asks "What are you usually 'on', then?"

No, he definitely did not request unintimidating. "I'm the owner" he says with a shrug "So if you have any bones to pick with my delivery personnel, now is the time to pick them."

"I'm afraid I don't have any, Mr. Bowman" The man leans on his doorframe regally, clearly bemused "In fact, if they're behind your sudden change of positions I would quite like to commend them."

Bard takes the man in for a moment, feeling a little bemused himself "Do you make a habit of hitting on your delivery boys, Mr.-" Bard looks at the receipt to find a name, but before he can sound out the twenty-some letter word that looks a little familiar a long-fingered hand comes to rest over the receipt "Thranduil" he says with a smirk "and you're not a delivery boy"

They stare at each other in the dim light, and Bard feels himself starting to smile. "Your food is going to go cold" he says finally.

"So it is" Thranduil replies, moving his hand at last to take the bag from Bard's fingers. He pulls out two twenties and hands them to Bard, who blinks and opens his mouth to protest the size of the tip. "For the trouble, Mr. Bowman"

"Bard" Bard says instead. Thranduil smiles just a little and repeats his name "Bard"

Bard's nerves thrill a bit at the sound of his name in Thranduil's voice. Then he shakes himself and says "I'm going to go make sure my store is still standing. Goodnight, Thranduil"

Thranduil pushes himself off the doorframe so elegantly Bard can almost believe it's an accident that he's moved himself about a foot closer. "Goodnight" he replies, breath ghosting over Bard's ear, and walks back into his house. He doesn't lock the door.

Bard spends the whole ride back plotting what he's going to say to his three scheming employees, but when he walks in he gets as far as saying "You" in a very menacing way before all his words back up in his throat like rush hour traffic and he just waives his hands in frustration and disappears into the back again. It might have helped that they almost looked a little contrite.

* * *

It's all hands on deck next Tuesday for no reason that Bard can discern, but they've filled as many orders by noon as they have since Saturday and that's enough to pay the lease this month. Legolas is pulling the orders as quick as he can, and it's during the post-dinner lull that he stops at one "Um, guys? This one has special instructions to send Bard" he calls out. Tauriel looks up and shares a look with Sigrid, and then Bard swoops in and snags the order and his keys "I'm on lunch" he calls on his way out.

"Hey, wait, this is- this is my Dad's address!" Legolas yells after him.

Dwalin cackles in the distance.

* * *

(A/N: Thranduil had no idea Legolas wasn't in that night.)


End file.
